Marriage Memoir by Ron and Crystal Meinstein

I grew up sitting, jumping and playing on front porches.  As a little girl, I played with my sister and my brother on our front porch in a neighborhood in Chicago.  We also played on our friends’ front porches. My close friend, Debbie, lived down the street.  Her front porch had three levels.  It was great for pretending, bringing our dolls and toys or just lounging around.  No one we knew had air conditioning and neither did the stores or churches or even the libraries.  To keep cool we ran through the sprinkler, drank lots of lemonade, Kool-Aid and iced tea and water from all the hoses in the neighborhood.  No one minded if the kids drank from the hose when they were overheated from playing.  The whole neighborhood, at that time, took care of the children and disciplined them on occasion.  We also threw water balloons at each other and sprayed each other with squirt guns.

In the evenings the whole neighborhood sat on their front porches. Visiting with the neighbors helped my mom find out what was going on: who was getting new furniture or appliances, and who was getting promoted or married or having a baby.  Everyone read the newspapers and women read magazines so recipes and ideas were exchanged in their front porch conversations.

After we moved to the suburbs, we sat on our front porch and talked to the neighbors.  During the 4^th of July week our nearby park had a carnival every year.  From our porch we watched the families walk to the carnival.  The people we knew would stop by and chat for a while.  My dad always said “people watching was better than TV.”

On the 4^th, the park would have fireworks which we could see from our front yard until the trees grew too tall.  My parents usually invited friends to come for dinner and stay to see the fireworks.  I remember those days like they just happened.

I can taste the sweet cold watermelon, the corn on the cob slathered in butter, biscuits or cornbread and either my mom’s chili or hamburgers and hotdogs from my dad’s grill in the back yard.  Mom would make many Jello salads and desserts in the summer.  We like most of them especially with whipped cream.

Today, maybe because we live in a small town, maybe because Ron and I had similar experiences growing up, to some extent, we keep the tradition alive. Even though air conditioning tends to keep people inside, we sit on our front porch and many of our neighbors do too.  Ron grills salmon, chicken, pork and hamburgers and hotdogs on our porch even in the winter.  You might see me roasting marshmallows for s’mores or just swinging on the porch swing listening to the robins, cardinals and blue jays and watching a brown rabbit in our front yard.  Some things don’t change and for us sitting on front porches is one of them.

Ron’s Parents and our Grand Daughter on  Front Porch 2007

Memories are funny things. They travel with us wherever we go and can come out, apparently, whenever they want. Last week we went swimming with my dad. My daughter, Michelle had found a beautiful and rather large inland lake, at a State Park, just a half hour from my dad’s apartment. He was reluctant at first, but then decided to give it a try. He had a great time. He insisted that the water was perfect and it had done his bad knee a world of good. He recalled the short swim he took with us in a pool in Florida but then quickly added that the last time he had swam in a lake was with my mom.

It’s hard to believe mom has been gone for a year and a half. When we went to Florida with dad last winter he insisted on taking us everywhere that mom used to like being. He would always quickly relate stories of their adventures and look for our approval. He was deeply disappointed when we couldn’t find a place or a restaurant was no longer in business. I know dad is still grieving her loss. To some extent we all are.

Dad’s apartment is full of pictures. We and all of the grandkids and great grandkids are well represented. But most of the pictures are of his wife. She lives on in pictures and memories.

Crystal’s dad has been without Mary Jane for some seven years now. If she were to miraculously return, she would find quilts on the walls, dolls on shelves and other decorations just where she left them. They decorated the house together, collected little knickknacks and even stenciled the cupboards with flowers.   He has no interest in changing very much what is in the house, but insists that we can do whatever we want once he has joined her. We haven’t caught him talking to her lately, but I know he still feels like she is somehow close.  We feel that way too when we are there.  She always likes the big family parties and holiday gatherings.  Crystal thinks she is watching when we use the special red glass dishes at Christmas and put the embroidered table cloth on the table.

I don’t believe, no matter how many TV shows are dedicated to the subject, that spirits roam the earth. Somehow, though, our memories act like ghosts. For years after our loved ones are gone, we wonder what they would have done in our situation, or would they have approved of what we were doing.  It is as if we carry part of them with us wherever we go. When it comes to a long time spouse I can definitely see a parallel to a friendly haunting. Until death is by no means the whole story.

Crystal’s Corner: Cardinals and Mom

My mom always loved birds which is why my dad put a large bird feeder in the backyard which could be seen from the kitchen table.  Every day, my mom would watch the birds and get mad at the squirrels.  She especially loved bright red cardinals which would come to the bird feeder.  After she died, we saw cardinals at different times and in odd places. It seemed like when we would have family celebrations; there would be several cardinals around enjoying it with us.  We think this is mom showing us that she is around.

My daughter, Michelle, always seems to see cardinals when she needs my mom to be around.  She’ll tell me about it.  I have been giving her cardinal statues and Christmas ornaments to have in her house.

All the girls miss my mom.  She was always laughing and telling them stories and encouraging them.  My mom was a very good listener and helped them when she could.  Now when we see my dad, we share with him memories about mom.  It was hard at first, but grief changes over time.  We know she is safe and happy and well. Also, because of our faith in Jesus, we know we will see her again.

A long time ago I wrote a poem (before mom died) about mom teaching the angels to quilt when she is in heaven.  I can even picture this.  She taught many people to quilt and some of them became quilting teachers and even entered quilt contests.  I always feel like she is around me when I go to a quilt show or textile art show.  We use to go together and mom would comment on the techniques used and the colors and design.  She was so knowledgeable about quilting history and techniques and always doing new and challenging projects.  I am working on a number of projects.  I hope to get some of them into quilt shows and /or contests.  She would be proud of my lecture about Harriet Beecher Stowe.  I was working on it before she died.  She always encouraged me to continue with my projects and to teach.  It was something special that we shared, this love of teaching and sharing our knowledge and experience.  My daughter, Michelle, is going back to school to get her teaching credentials.  I think that the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree.  She wants to teach the early grades and I know she will do well as a teacher and be loved by her students.

I wonder when Michelle is teaching in the future whether she will occasionally see a cardinal outside the window encouraging her.  It wouldn’t surprise me at all.

Crystal my mom and dad in 2008                                              Crystal with her dad and our grandchild 2008

I’ve been helping my dad this week. On Wednesday he had a non-cancerous tumor removed from his colon. Today is Saturday. Progress has been slow. The day before his surgery we walked about a mile and a half through the park near his apartment. Today he still has trouble just getting up and walking to the bathroom. Crystal has been great, as usual. She told me that she misses me every time I talk to her, but agrees that I need to be here. I think one of the things that first attracted me to her, after her long beautiful legs, was her strong sense of family. I now see that it runs in our whole family. Since I have been here each of my three daughters has shown their concern for my dad, and me as well. They readily offered to help. While I am willing, dad wants to spare them seeing him incapacitated. It’s fine with me either way. I know, better than my dad, that my girls were raised to be capable and helpful. However, I am perfectly able to help him through this time.

With so much time to reflect I can’t help but look back and reflect a little. Somehow when you look back you see things from a little different perspective. When I was young I was very involved in sports. Dad was almost always busy with his career or studying some document or report. I still remember each time, maybe half a dozen in all, that he threw a ball, or kicked a football with me. At the time I missed his involvement. I now know that is just who he is. He has always been a work first, highly organized, intellectual. Don’t get me wrong, there was never any doubt about his love for mom and me. He just didn’t always express it well.

I also found it strange that, as intellectual as dad was, that he picked such an emotional and flamboyant mate as mom. They were a bit like oil and vinegar. As with all good salad dressings it took a bit of mixing to keep them together. Mom was probably forty when she decided she had to learn to drive. I was highly in favor in theory, but not when the plan was revealed. Dad was going to teach her on his standard transmission car. Have you ever noticed that just because some people know things doesn’t mean they can teach. My dad was one of those. Of course there is no tougher person to teach than your spouse. My one positive about the whole experience is that it took place in an abandoned parking lot in the Forest Preserves. It didn’t take me long to abandon the car and start heading into the woods. I loved the woods and knew these like the back of my hand. My goal was to see how far I would have to go before I could no longer hear the gears grinding and my parents communicating. I walked for quite a while. Finally the screaming and grinding ended and I heard my mom call Ronald. I was out of breath before I got back to the car. Dad was back at the wheel and my parents were calm. They had made a decision. They would hire a driving instructor. Yeh!!!

Mom & Dad With Our Daughter Michelle: Summer 2011